


Atlas

by starstrukk



Category: Original Work
Genre: But i love his story!, Gen, I still have no idea how to format!!, merry Christmas nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstrukk/pseuds/starstrukk
Summary: The rain doesn't stop with his thoughts.





	Atlas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leuq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leuq/gifts).



The skies seemed more lively today. Stars were flickering out, but the sun shone bright, as if nightfall had never occurred. He wondered, mind racing, but thoughts still as stone. He sat in timeless thought as the skies moved around him, cautiously waiting for a heave, a sigh-- _anything_. Was his body stone by now, or had the merciless winds taken pity upon him enough to cast him as one of their own? He didn't know; and didn't dwell on it. He couldn't tell his stone flesh apart from the clouds anymore. And in a way, he didn't want to. He closed his heavy eyes. It was dusk again.

* * *

 

Some days were easier than others.  
Life as a forsaken hadn't been so bad. The sky was oft light upon his shoulders, singing their praises upon his deaf ears. Their mischievous charms had kept him up for so far. Straining his slate eyes upward, he could ancient pasts and roughly mapped out futures. Blues and reds mixing together to form places and birth new gods. Titling his head below, the Earth gave a low moan in protest. It was promptly ignored. The iron rock below showed new, ever growing cracks.Smoke gently sifted up and filtered it’s way under the soles of his feet. The biting soot ate away at his unmoving limbs and overtime, left holes.  
His knees were bruised and calloused; having fell to them long ago when his legs and burning thighs could take no more. A worthy punishment for someone of his caliber. The people celebrated and voiced their burdens into his lone ear. The Earth sighed as twilight fell, and her rivers, lakes, and oceans fell from their crevices and carved pathways through his stone flesh. Volcanoes erupted and ran down his forearms; adding onto the streaked, angry molten patterns down his back. The stone of his body grew ever more dilapidated by the eon. He thought of past crimes and lapsed judgement. _Their_ lapsed judgement. Listening, he could sometimes still hear all of their screams in his starred haze. Screams of honor, misplaced desperation, and finally a damning recklessness that felt like a too - far off memory. It hurt. He could never tell if they were sounds of his pitted comrades, or his own. And those were the thoughts that truly haunted him the most. It hurt.  
As opposed to being concealed in complete darkness, the heavens were not a bad trade off. The heavens provided him light, and sudden isolation. The perfect repentance for his endurance.  
His eternal punishment for the pertuli was undeniably just. He stopped thinking.  
He was tired.

* * *

 

Other days were worse.  
Life as a castaway were hell and none could convince him otherwise. Time passed slowly, and gods oft spat his name with scorn. The sky seemed heavier than usual, her weighted misery intensified atop his shoulder. She dripped slowly, unfeeling and unaware at first. He had no time to dwell on it however; the decision was final and eternally sealed by Jupiter’s word.  
This was his punishment, his slow undoing, and his fate. All wrapped up in one endless, boundless, sky.  
He screamed.  
It was still raining.

* * *

 

The world was chaos. It always had been. He silently listened to the screams of human souls, purged from mortal life and given visage upon a dreadfully cloudless sky. Where were the winds? The sun didn't shine; the moon didn't glow either. His body creaked and chaffed against itself, dust and dreamy desert sand rolling off of him and settling deep into the rock below. He slowly burned, and finally thought.


End file.
